


Pain is real

by ChopinWorshipper



Category: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Angst, Gen, Nightmares, Scratching, Self-Harm, hyde needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 01:41:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20267950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChopinWorshipper/pseuds/ChopinWorshipper
Summary: Wakening from a nightmare, Hyde has to make sure that he's really not dreaming anymore.





	Pain is real

Hyde woke up screaming and sobbing hysterically.

It was one of _those_ nightmares again.

One of the memories, that never left.

They plagued both him and Jekyll.

But for Hyde, whose memories they were, it was ten times worse than for Jekyll.

Usually it was Jekyll who hardly got rest, but ever since these things had happened, the tables had turned.

He looked around, trembling.

He was in his bedroom in his flat in Soho. This was not a putrid, dirty alley, where people skulked around with intentions as evil as his own.

But was he really awake?

How could he be sure that he wasn’t still dreaming?

His nerves were too raw, his mind too messed up to tell.

Maybe his nightmare was luring him into a false sense of security. Or maybe he was just going mad. Wait, never mind, he already was.

Hyde pinched himself in the upper arm. It hurt, which should have convinced him.

But somehow, his mind still doubted, queried.

More physical stimulus would be needed to convince himself, that this was real, that he wasn’t dreaming anymore.

More pain.

The brunette regarded the razor blade on his night table. It was gleaming in the moonlight, taunting, inviting.

He could cut his hands. That would do it.

Wait, no.

Jekyll would notice the blood in the morning and ask questions.

Then the moon shone onto Hyde’s bed, illuminating pale, spidery hands with long, sharp finger nails.

Wordlessly, he rolled up the sleeves of his nightshirt.

Then he brought his fingers up to his upper arms and dragged his fingernails down his arms.

Hard enough to draw blood.

It hurt.

But it felt right.

Damn, never had he imagined that hurting himself could feel so good!

There was a morbid beauty in how his own blood ran down his arms.

No nightmare could make physical pain feel so real.

Hyde giggled; he couldn’t help himself.

Now he was calm.

Now he knew that he wasn’t dreaming anymore.


End file.
